Why We Stay
by minorshan
Summary: Why do the people closest to the sisters, especially coworkers, who know nothing of magic, let them get away with the constant last minute excuses to ditch their responsibilities? They have their reasons. Maybe they're not as clueless as we all thought.
1. Danni

**Author's Notes:** To those of you who may be waiting for an update to "Once and Future Witches" - take heart! I'm still working on it. I just hit a bit of writers block and this had been bubbling in my head for some months, so I decided to write it to get the juices slowing again. This fic is mainly stream of mind ficlets. It will be in 3 parts, this is the first, focusing on Piper. Please let me know what you think!

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**CHAPTER 1: DANNI**

It was a night like so many other nights. P3 was packed to watch the latest pop sensation that had rolled into town, the drinks were flowing, and her boss was nowhere to be found. Danni methodically wiped a damp rag across the bar's counter as her eyes lingered on the club's back office door, which Piper had disappeared through moments earlier. She had left with the usual mysteriously distracted announcement, "I'll be right back...maybe. Uh, you can handle things, right?" but she retreated before Danni could give her an answer. Not that Piper needed one. She knew she could trust Danni to mind the club. What she didn't know was what else Danni was entrusted with.

A couple years earlier, when Danni had been first hired as the club's manager, she hadn't realized just how much responsibility she would be shouldering. At first, Piper's frequent disappearances had been mystifying. Now, the job listing had said P3 was looking for an experienced manager who could be available at a moment's notice, and extremely dependable, so Danni knew she would be called upon frequently. At first, she had enjoyed the opportunity to gain such extensive experience, since she loved the lifestyle, and hoped to open her own club one day. But eventually, Danni began to feel, at best, taken for granted, and at worst, exploited.

After all, if she was the one doing most of the work, why was Piper reaping all the profits? Half the time, Piper was missing in action, having taken "family time" or dealing with a "family emergency", leaving Danni to handle the burden of a booming night club. It wasn't that Piper didn't pay well – she actually paid handily better than any other club owner in Northern California – possibly the entire state. And when Piper was available, she got more work done, and done well, than Danni ever imagined herself being able to manage.

But the constant departures, with little or no notice, had gotten old and Danni had seriously considered quitting in favor of a job where she could have a predictable life, even with less pay. She had considered it seriously, until one night that changed her perspective on everything. Not just her life, but her entire world view.

It had been a chilly evening in early October a couple years ago when Piper had laid the final straw on Danni's back. Piper and Danni had been taking the weekly inventory of their stock when Piper received a text message. The phone played an innocuous 5 second loop of some classical piece. To anyone else this seemed a pleasant tune. But Danni knew better. That tinny concerto was the cue for Piper to make a hasty exit. Before Piper could open her mouth a massive crash came from the alleyway behind the club. Piper glanced at it for a sec before she laid another half-hearted excuse on Danni. "Must be some massive,uh, cat out there, huh? Well, I've gotta go... pick up Wyatt. Leo is-" she was interrupted by another bang from outside,"- Leo can't, he's uh, busy. Thanks, Danni!" She quickly fled up the stairs and out of the front of the club.

Danni exhaled an annoyed sigh and shook her head. Like so many times before, she had a hunch that whatever her boss was up to, it wasn't the lame excuse that she was fed every other week. "_Hell, for all I know, she's dealing drugs in that back alley. Or paying dues to the Japanese mafia out of China Town!" , _she thought. Danni laughed silently to herself at the image of Piper playing craps with a bunch of thugs out behind P3.

No, that wasn't like Piper, or her sisters, but something just wasn't right. _But still... why do I get the feeling that the noises in the alley were related?_ Danni was not the nosy type, but this constant secrecy was affecting her life too, so what harm could it do to check out a sound in the alley. After all, Piper **said** she was going to get Wyatt, right? "_So if I happen to walk in her business then its her fault..." _Danni reasoned. She tossed the pen and pad of paper she was using to take inventory on to the counter top and made her way to the back door as if she was sneaking, despite being alone, wrapped her palm around the doorknob, and slowly turned it. She pushed the door open slowly, first peering through the crack before leaning her whole head out to scan the dead end of the alleyway. She saw nothing at first, but was startled suddenly as the loud crack out a plank of wood hitting a dumpster rang out and she saw a gray streak bounce off a couple of black bags of trash.

Danni's left hand flung to her chest as her heart raced from the surprise but she exhaled sharply when the gray mass stopped moving and she realized it was just a white cat in desperate need of a bath. _"Awww... maybe I can catch him and help him find him home,"_ she thought and was about to push the door fully open before she heard a woman shout from the other end of the alleyway. "No, Sarah – stop!"

"_Was that... Piper?"_ A little girl, no older than 5, came into Danni's view, smiling and arms outstretched to the cat. "Heere Sammy! It's ok... it's me, Sarah! I've been so worried about you..."

Danni listened as she heard the clatter of two or three pairs of adult shoes jogging up behind the little girl Sarah. Sure enough, it was Piper and her two sisters. Piper ran up and gently restrained the girl by her shoulders before kneeling down to her eye level. "Don't _ever_ run off like that again," scolded gently. "We don't know that that's Sammy, it could be the de..uh, bad man after your parents."

"_Bad man...?" _thought Danni. _"Just what is Piper involved in? I thought that FBI gig was a one time thing..."_

Little Sarah shook her head empathetically,"Uh,uh! That's my Sammy, I knows it!" and slipped her way out of Piper's loose grip and ran towards the trash piles. As the little girl approached the cat, a dozen more, of all shapes and sizes, pounced out of seemingly nowhere, to huddle around the original gray cat, "Sammy".

"Uh-oh..."

"Anyone got, I dunno, a giant can of tuna and a net, or something?"

Danni heard the familiar voices of Phoebe and Paige from the other side of the door Danni was peeking through. This scene had turned from odd to freaky, but little did she know it was soon to become downright terrifying.

Piper quickly caught up to Sarah, and scooped her up into her arms. "Honey, that might not be your famii..." Piper's eyes widened in alarm and Danni followed her gaze, only to be confused by, rather by what she saw. The gray cat grew in size, his shape morphed, the outline of his body fuzzy, his limbs stretched and his body flew itself upright.

Suddenly, Danni realized what she was seeing. Like the effects in a movie, only so much more real and terrifyingly gruesome, the fluffy cat had changed shape and reformed into the figure of a man with wild dirty gray hair and almost tribal leather garb. His face split with a predatory smile and stared down Piper. "Her _familiar?_ Why, I might just not be!" He laughed and stretched out his arms, flinging them to the dusky red sky of sunset. As if reacting to his gesture the figures of the pack of cats grew and quickly took the form of similarly leather clad men with wild greasy hair and sharp fangs.

Danni's eyes darted to Piper and she noticed quick movement."Paige!"she shouted,"Get her out of here!" and spun around.

From here on out Danni's memory was one of slow motion details and a flurry of images that went by in an instant. The little girl's feet swinging out into the air as Piper spun her, and in woosh of heat a perfectly formed ball of fire singing Piper's billowing coat sleeve. Piper flung her body over the little girl, pressing her to the ground as brilliant white lights engulfed her sister Paige.

Suddenly Paige was gone in an instant and Phoebe grabbed Sarah, gently but quickly pushing her behind a dumpster out of the line of fire. Danni's eyes darted to the "bad guys" out of instinct knowing that that was the source of danger. She wanted to help, though she wasn't sure how, but was rooted to the spot.

The brilliant white lights appeared again, this time behind the "bad guys", and in those lights appeared Paige, who had something in her hand. The last day's sun glinted off of something like glass as she smashed it into the face of the leather clad "man". He let out a scream that sounded more like the snarl of an injured cat than human before being engulfed in a poof of white hot flames.

Danni saw Phoebe help Piper to her feet, the look of alarm now transformed into a hard glare of concentration. Her whole demeanor had changed to a stance Danni had never seen in Piper, even at her most frustrated. "Tricking orphaned little girls is funny to you huh, _demon_?" she asked and raised her hands. "How about this _treat?!"_ she said almost flippantly and flicked her hands.

The lead "demon" quickly grabbed one of his companions pulling him in front of himself to take the blow of the energy of Piper's blast. Danni's eyes widened as she watched the "man" burst into a million particles of dust. She watched as Piper repeated the motion, sending a few more "demons" into oblivion, Phoebe battled two large men hand to hand, and knocked them seemingly unconscious, and Paige "flung" large pieces of debris at various "demons", until all but the original Sammy imposter were left.

"Give me the girl!" growled the gray demon. A cold sense of terror filled her chest as Danni saw his eyes fill with flames then a dull black nothingness.

"Yeah – right!" scoffed Piper and she blasted him, sending his flying back into an old tire. "Is that all you've got? And here I believed the goody goody Charmed Ones something to fear!" he sneered, before being enveloped by his own shadow.

Suddenly they heard the gasp and squeal of a little girl. Danni's eyes darted over to Sarah and she watched in horror as the demon lifted the girl by her throat, a claw extending out of his free hand. "Sarah!" exclaimed Phoebe, and all three sisters spun around to see what Danni already had.

"YOU-" but Piper cut herself off as she flung her hands out at the demon sending a massive blast of magical energy at him. He exploded instantly, leaving Sarah to drop to the ground in a heap.

"You've obviously never dealt with the wrath of a mother bear, have you?" said Paige flippantly to the empty air that the demon had occupied just moments before.

Piper rushed over to the little girl, lifting her up and brushing the hair away from her face. "Are you okay, honey?"

The little girl's lower lip trembled but she tried to put on a brave face. "Yeah... I think so. But where's Sammy...?"

Phoebe tilted her head sympathetically at Sarah. "I dunno sweetie, but we'll find him. After all, what's a little girl without her Familiar?"

"Promise?" she asked with a sniffle.

Paige lifted the little girl's chin up with a finger and smiled. "Promise."

Piper lifted the girl on to her hip with a small groan of effort. "But first, all the same, we need to get you back to magic school and make sure you're really, really, okay. Okay?" she asked. The little one nodded and the sisters smiled gently before joining hands. The lights once again appeared, this time engulfing everyone in the alley.

And like that the alley was dark and empty, leaving only a ripped trash bag to hint at anyone ever having been there.

Danni blinked and suddenly filled her lungs with a gulp of air. She'd been holding her breath the whole time! She let the door swing shut and slid her back down a wall, landing in a sitting position. _What did I just witness..._

_**BrBrRRbrING! **_

Danni jumped nearly out of her skin as P3's phone began to ring. "JESUS!" she shouted and pulled herself up.

_**BrBrRRbrING! BrBrRRbrING! BrBrRRbrING! **_

"Ok, OKAY! I'm getting it!" she said to herself. "Thank you for calling P3, this is Danni speaking, how can I help you?" the greeting rolled off her tongue on autopilot despite having just witnessed the most terrifyingly confusing moment of her life.

"Hey Danni," Piper's voice crackled over the line, her tone, in Dani's opinion, entirely too nonchalant for what she had just been through, "It looks like I'm not going to be able to be in for the rest of the night. I'll try to be back in time for opening, but could you help Sheryl Crow and her crew with sound check and so on?" Danni hesitated as she tried to process the scene she had just witnessed and marry it with the quite domestic tone Piper's voice had so easily reverted to. "Uh... Danni, you there?"

"Huh? Oh – yeah... yeah, that's no problem."

"Thank you Danni, you're the best! And you might just have a basket of your favorite muffins coming your way!"

"Uh, yeah. Good luck," answered Danni in a tone dripping in meaning. How do you bring this kinda thing up? Danni could tell this caught Piper a little off guard, but Piper seemed to brush it off, distracted by someone talking in the background.

"Ok, yeah. See you later Danni!" The click of the phone disconnecting sounded before Danni could reply.

Danni sat in silence for a few minutes trying to decipher what she had just seen. Piper's mysterious behavior suddenly made sense, but what she was hiding was still largely a mystery. _"Was that some crazy technology I just saw? Or real honest to God magic? And... demons? What the hell does that make the Halliwells?" _But she was once again forcibly brought out of her reverie,this time by a soft "mroow?" at her feet.

Looking down, Danni saw a little gray cat rubbing against her leg. She jumped back instinctively, but the cat just looked at her, and Danni could swear she saw a gentle confusion in the cat's eyes. "Are you Sammy?" she asked, almost expecting an answer.

Another "meow" was all she got in return. Deciding that this may be the "familiar"the girl was looking for, Danni scooped the cat up and closed it into the club's office for safe keeping. Danni decided she's let Piper know about the cat whenever she got back.

Over the next few weeks following 'The Incident' as she had come to think of it, Danni had spent almost all her free time at the local library, looking up words she'd heard that fateful night. "Familiars", "Demons", and topics like shape shifters led her into books that claimed such things as both mythical stories, and a magical underworld. It all pointed to dark occultism, or fanciful witched, except the one dusty tome where she found the only book that referenced "The Charmed Ones". It spoke of a prophecy of the coming of three sisters, the ultimate force of good, which would protect humanity.

The Incident had been terrifying, but she realized that the sisters had emanated as powerful a sense of light as the demons had emanated evil. And so, Danni never brought up what she had seen to anyone, though she did occasionally defend Piper's inconsistent appearances at work against her coworkers occasional grumblings,merely saying that Piper had "very important work outside the club." But she never brought it up to any of the Halliwell sisters, because, she reasoned, they must keep it a secret for a reason.

And after what she had seen that was good enough for her.

Danni wrung out the rag, now dripping with spilled beer, over the sink. _"Hell," _she thought, _"I can handle some extra responsibilities if it means I don't have to face demons every week. Though I wouldn't mind that teleporting thingy.."_ she smirked to herself.

She looked up to see Piper and her sisters dusting themselves off as they came back into the club and approached the bar. _"Quick vanquish!"_ she thought, but merely leaned over and pulled a leaf and twig out of Piper's hair. "Windy night?" she asked, simply.

Paige smirked. "Yeah, _killer _breeze out there tonite," she joked. Piper gave her a glare that would seem inappropriate to anyone who didn't catch her joke. Which would be almost anyone but Danni.

"But it's _died _down," remarked Phoebe wryly. Piper just rolled her eyes and Danni acted as if none of their behavior was strange, merely filling a couple tumblers with liquid.

"Drinks, ladies?"she asked, sliding them across the bar.

"That would be wonderful. I'll be back to help in a few," said Piper.

"Thanks, Danni!" chimed in Phoebe and Paige as they retreated to their corner.

"No problem," answered Danni, genuinely. As she bopped to the DJ's beats, while drying the latest load of glasses, she idly wondered just what horror the ladies had faced this evening.

**UP NEXT:** Elise reflects on her start columnist, Phoebe Halliwell


	2. Elise

**Author's Notes: Thanks for all the kind words. I wasn't expecting such as response from what is basically a throwaway side fic! I hope you all won't get bored by Elise's activities. I didn't expect it too go on as long as it did, but hopefully I was able to flesh her out as a character while staying true to who we saw on the show. Also, the technology used in this stretches reality a bit, but hopefully not so much to the point that you can't suspend your disbelief. With that, on with the show...**

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**Why We Stay**: Elise

A nose for news. Thats what they call it. Or just plain nosy, if you asked my father when I was growing up. Ever since I was a little girl I always knew when something was up. My role model was Nancy Drew, and I carried a notebook with me wherever I went. I always knew who was dating who, and even though it was never me, it meant I had the ear of the 'in'.

And then I grew up. And here I am at the top of my profession. Head newspaper woman. Boss of bosses. All except for Phoebe Halliwell that is.

Oh, she respects me and all. But God knows, she pushes the limits like no other employee I've ever met. Don't get me wrong. Our circulation doubled in the first year she took over the advice column, and I try and take care of my talent. The only problem is, she doesn't test me like normal star columnists would. She doesn't demand more pay, a bigger head shot, or any of the usual. No, Phoebe Halliwell is a strange one. She just randomly and unpredictably wants time off, or away, from the office.

Hell, I can't say that even care about that. As long as she meets her deadlines she can take off to Timbuktu for all I care. But that's where my 'nose for news' comes in. I didn't get to be the head of the Bay Mirror for nothing. And Phoebe Halliwell reeked of a good story.

Not long after she started at the paper... come to think of it, the day _before_ she started at the paper, when she helped the woman she replaced... even that had the faint aroma of oddity that plagues the entire Halliwell clan. Looking at her and her family, even _I_ only saw a normal, ho-hum, group of people - at first.

But how many times could I hear "family emergency", have Pheobe disappear during an odd occurrence in town, or best of all, her inquiries into local crimes, before she draws my attention? Like I said. Nosey. That's me.

I don't know exactly what set me to it, but I finally decided to scratch that itch and find out just what the story was with Phoebe. I didn't need the newspaper's staff laughing at me if my hunch was wrong, so I decided to solo this one. If I was just imagining things, no one would know but me. But if I scored a scoop, well, that's just another feather in my cap! So I set to it.

A simple background check and call to some cops, who owed me a favor or three, revealed the Halliwell name on police reports going back as late as the 1920's when a relative showed up strangled to death at the family Manor. Evidence was circumstantial in every single case that the family showed up on. "Just passing by" according to one account. "Friend of a friend on another". But always a coincidental connection. Except for Phoebe's ex-husband.

She had just started at the paper at the time, and I had figured her to just be the type with a lot of drama in their life. Boy, how wrong, yet right, I really was!

Late one evening I was sitting at my desk, my brain fried after a long day of paperwork, and my head rested in one hand. My gaze passed lazily across my desk until landing upon a stack of bulky files. The name on one tab caught my eyes. "P.H." I hadn't pursued the matter past the police reports I had uncovered a year earlier and the whole matter had collected dust – literally.

Maybe it was a need to break from the rut I'd recently found myself in, but I couldn't help being drawn back to that story that my every instinct told me was there. Just below the surface. "Ah, what the hell, why not!" I mumbled to myself. I pulled the file from the stack and began to rifle through the papers with fresh eyes. By the time the sun was peeking over the grey waters of the east bay I had formulated a plan. And called in Jerry, the assistant editor, to cover for me for the day. I'd need some sleep before gumshoeing after the mysterious Phoebe Halliwell.

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The next morning I waited impatiently for Phoebe to show up so I could get my plan underway. Phoebe rolled in around 10:30 that morning looking as fresh and stylish as any photo shoot we'd ever arranged for her. I watched the clock, waiting for the digital numbers to roll over a suitable time before I pounced.

"_Screw it." _I thought. "_10:32 it good enough..."_ I weaved my way through the press room toward Phoebe's office and knocked briskly.

"_Step One: Pin her down!"_ Very shortly Phoebe opened the door.

"Elise! Hey, it's a beautiful morning, huh?" She smiled in a relaxed manner, which told me that at the moment she had no "family" matters going on. _"Dammit!"_ I thought. _"Ah well, I'm sure something will come up. It's about that time. She hasn't been working at home for "personal reasons" for almost a full week."_

I gave her what felt like a tight smile and nodded. "Let's hope it holds, but Bob – you know, our meteorologist- tells me there's a 40 chance of rain later this evening." At her blank look I realized my small talk was a little too forced so I tried to gloss over it and just kept talking. "Anyway, I won't keep you long, I'm sure you're busy helping some poor louse with his mommy issues, but I just wanted to let you know that you're probably going to have to stay late tonight..."

Phoebe's face fell a little bit, but still there was none of that instant squirming I'd seen so many times before when she wanted to avoid my request. "What for?"

"Oh, I just need to go over some marketing strategies with you. I wouldn't want my star columnist begrudging her new ad campaign!" I tried to keep my tone light. It seemed to work as I saw Phoebe nod enthusiastically.

"Oh, great! Y'know, I've been thinking we should rework that tag line on the ads. I mean, 'She Has All the Answers'? It always seemed a little cheesy to me. And I was thinking..."

I waved her off. "We'll talk about it tonight. Come back to me with some ideas on how to expand your reader base, maybe bring in the teen market, y'know? In the mean time I have to get on Gary's ass again. I swear, how hard is it to match the right caption to the right photo? I mean, the Pope may be old but he hardly looks like this _Shar-pei, _does he?" As I suspected, the moment I launched into a rant, Phoebe quickly slipped out of her own office under the pretext of getting coffee, allowing me to put off our "meeting"until this evening. I let a smile cross my face. _"Works every time."_

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The rest of the day passed uneventfully, filled with the usual deadlines and rewrites, until it was just Phoebe and I left in the office. Truth be told, I was nervous and excited simultaneously. It was like the old days when I was first cutting my teeth as an investigative reporter, hunting down a story, setting up my mark, and breaking it. I just hoped that Phoebe hadn't come down with a sudden case of dependability.

As I approached her office I saw Phoebe reading over a "Dear Phoebe" letter. I lightly rapped my knuckles on the door twice before letting myself in. "Let me guess, is that letter from another Sad Sally in San Francisco? Or Oggled by Owen in Oakland?"

Phoebe removed her glasses and raised an eyebrow at me. "Bummed Betty in Berkeley, actually. But it is a woman. How did you know?"

"The pink tint of the paper tends to give that kind of thing away. Usually, anyway," I replied with laugh. I leaned on the chair in front of her desk. "So, what have you got for me? I'm talking to our ad man tomorrow morning."

Phoebe folded the letter and placed it back in it's envelope. "Well, I was thinking maybe we could book me on some morning radio shows? You know, those wacky morning DJ ones so we can tap into the teen demogra-" Phoebe was cut off by her phone ringing. "Just a sec."

"_Just like clockwork," _I thought as she flipped the cell phone open.

"Hey Paige what's... uh huh. She _what?_ Uh huh... no..." I watched as Phoebe listened to her sister and her face turned from annoyed to disbelief. "But I wasn't even the one who did the... with the thing!" For just a second I saw what looked like panic cross her face but she disguised it well. "Look, I can't just..." she huffed a frustrated sigh. "Fine! Fine. I'll be there asap." Phoebe flipped her phone shut and gave a the sheepish grin I'd come to associate with her disappearing acts. "Elise, uh, here," she handed me a manila folder stuffed with a variety of papers. "This is the basic jist of what I wanted to propose to you. I'm sure whatever you decided to do will be just great. I mean, I saw what you did with Lucy's column last spring and-"

"No need to butter me up, you can go, no strings attached!" _"Just me behind your car bumper," _I added mentally. "Now go handle your family emergency, Phoebe!"

"Oh, thank you Elise! I don't deserve you, you know that?" she flashed me a smile as she pulled her purse over her shoulder and turned the corner out the door.

I watched her retreat out the newsroom doors before counting to myself. Twenty seconds later I pulled on my coat, grabbed my own purse, along with a small portable camera, and made my way to the parking lot. I glanced around the dark empty lot. I could hear the echoing clicks of heels, someone hustling along, and peeked my head around the building corner. There was Phoebe's car... but no Phoebe. I saw the very long silhouette of a woman's shadow – it looked like Phoebe's – retreating down an adjoining alleyway.

"Took you long enough!" I heard a familiar female's voice echo as the shadow made it's way down the alleyway.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get this ridiculousness over with!" exclaimed Phoebe. My ears perked, I snuck my way as quickly as possible across the parking lot toward the alley, keeping my eyes on the shadow.

"Hey, I'm not the one who did the-" protested the woman's voice.

"-And neither am I. Let's just go get Piper!" snapped Phoebe.

"Yeees, ma'aaam," answered the other voice haughtily. Suddenly, the yellow light turned a bluish hue and as the blue light swelled Phoebe's shadow faded – no... dissolved? As the blue light faded as quickly as it had appeared, Phoebe's shadow did not return. Had they gone further into the alley? I peeked my head around the corner, hesitantly at first, then, seeing nothing, I peered my whole head out.

The alley was empty.

My feet followed my head out into the alleyway and I stood there, dumbstruck, for a moment. The alley was a dead end, no more than a parking spot for a dumpster. I took a few more steps in. "Phoebe?" I rapped my knuckles on the dumpster. I was at a loss since... well, I couldn't remember.

"_Well, her car is still here,"_ I reasoned. _"She has to come back for her car sometime..."_ So I made my decision. I would stake out her car. I flipped open my cellphone and ordered a pizza from the usual place, and settled in to my car to wait.

Finally, after five hours of increasingly crazy late night talk radio I saw Phoebe making her way down the sidewalk adjacent to the parking lot. I quickly dove behind my dashboard, watching her through strategically aimed car mirrors. She paused as she approached her car, clearly noticing the presence of mine, and I noticed that she had changed her clothes to.. and outfit that looked distinctly like she had spent the night sweeping chimneys. I raised an eyebrow. _"Definitely not typical Phoebe." _

Phoebe shrugged off my car before moving on and unlocking the doors on her own, starting it up, and turning out of the parking lot. I quickly started up my car, careful to leave the headlights off, and took off behind Phoebe at a safe distance. Luckily, living in a metropolitan town like San Francisco meant that even at this early hour I had enough traffic among which to hide. I backed off considerably when we neared Phoebe's house and continued on after she pulled into her driveway. I doubled back around immediately, and saw the door close behind her as I parked across the street.

I watched as the silhouettes moved behind the curtains. Three women, the sisters I assumed, and one man made their way around the living room at first, but soon the lights downstairs went out, quickly followed by the dousing of the upstairs bedrooms.

And the house was quiet. I stuck around for another half-hour before finally deciding that I had missed the good stuff - whatever it was. So, I decided to pack it up and wait for another opportunity. "This old hound doesn't give up at the first trail lost," I murmured to myself. This time I'd have to try a different tact.

I soon procured a small tracking device, usually intended to lo-jack small personal electronics, and waited for Phoebe to be distracted. This took all of four hours before she was laying in to the copy editor about changes he had made to her latest column. As she took highlighter to paper, showing the editor how to do his job, I glided in to Phoebe's office, quickly opened up Phoebe's cellphone, and stuck the device to it's battery, and slipped it back on to her desk. I got out and was back at my desk by the time Phoebe was making her way back to her desk.

Now I could track the movements of Phoebe's phone, which may as well be attached to her, from both my laptop and my cell phone. I bide my time, waiting for something to raise a red flag. It had been an oddly quiet summer, and six weeks had passed before it finally happened.

That fateful Wednesday will be etched in my memory until the day I die. Which, thankfully, tuned out to not be that day.

Phoebe had left haste fully that morning, which peaked my interest, so I flipped on the tracking device. I watched as the dot blinked it's way along city roads, finally making it's way back to Phoebe's house. She'd made good time by my estimation, but beside that there was little unusual about it. The dot stayed there, blinking in place, for near two hours, but I continued to keep an eye on it as I worked at my desk. Suddenly, though, in the time it had taken me to glance at an ad proposal and back, it had disappeared.

My eyes quickly scanned the map. Had she moved? No, she was nowhere in San Francisco. "Thats impossible," I said to myself. It must have been a malfunction. Or the device had lost the connection. "Stupid piece of sh-" and then I noticed the red arrow in the corner of the screen, pointing southeast.

I zoomed the map out to the state level. Still just an arrow pointing off screen. I zoomed out to the national level. Still that blasted arrow! _"This is ridiculous, this has to be a glitch!" _Finally, I saw that dot. Blinking from the middle of the Brazilian Rainforest.

I stared at the screen. "Right." Out of curiosity, I zoomed in to the most precise location I could, and found the yellow text "Tenochtitlan Ruins" hovering over the red Phoebe dot. "Of course! Why not?" I grumbled, and tapped at the receiver sitting on my desk. "I knew I should've gotten that warranty."

I was moving my mouse to click the program off when the dot disappeared again. I zoomed out and saw the dot had returned to San Francisco. "That's better!" I zoomed back in and Phoebe had now made her way to the docks in the time that the tracker had _apparently_ been malfunctioning.

I quickly grabbed my keys and sped off in my car to hopefully catch Phoebe at whatever she was up to. Thankfully, San Francisco is a relatively compact town, and I was able to make my way to the wharf in under ten minutes. I parked and checked my phone's tracking map. Phoebe was nearby, maybe two docks down.

I quickly made my way dashing and ducking along the shipping containers, doing my best to not be seen first. Finally, I heard it. "Duck!" I heard Phoebe shout and nearly obeyed the command, it was delivered with such urgency. Suddenly the crash of cracking wood. It had come from behind a pile of crates the size of a small house.

I stuck my back to the crates, pulled out my camera, and quickly crept to a corner between two pallets. I knelt down and peered around the corner. Phoebe, and what looked like her younger sister Paige, had their backs to me, and stood next to a splintered wooden box. About ten yards on, a hulk of a man with rust colored skin, a shaved head, and wearing tattered canvas clothing stood facing them. His skin was decorated in Aztec looking tattoos and his face wore a look like I'd never seen. It reminded me the snarl of a rabid dog, only with a far more intelligent malice in his eyes. "What in God's name..." I felt my lips mouth. I flipped on my camera and began snpping photos. It being digital meant it blessedly made no noise.

Was this some kind of meth-head? "_What in the hell kind of business could Phoebe and her sister have to do with this guy?"_ And suddenly I was no longer in the world I thought I had been living.

The man, for lack of a better word, lifted his hand and a ball of fire appeared in the palm of his hand. I clicked another photo. He hurled it like a baseball at Paige. I was about to cry a warning out when she suddenly dissolved into blue lights. The mental image of a glowing blue alleyway flickered in my mind for a moment, it's meaning wanting to break through to my conscious thoughts. My finger continued to snap photos even as I was no longer paying attention to exactly where I was aiming.

But the action was too fast. I watched as the man, this thing, hurled himself at Phoebe, another fireball – yes, _fireball, _that's the term – formed in his palm, and it all went by too quickly for me to say anything – warn anyone. Hell, I didn't even know what I was seeing.

The beast rushed Phoebe, but before he could release his weapon Phoebe too rushed him, kicked out her leg and rolled back with lightening speed, sending him flying over her body, and crashing in to a stack of crates, falling on his own fireball. With a distorted scream like I'd never heard he suddenly burst in to flame. He flailed, desperately trying to douse the flames, but was gone in almost an instant.

Phoebe flipped her body upright, landing on her feet, which was made even more remarkable given the heels she was wearing. I noticed that Paige had reappeared at some point during that maneuver and she walked over to Phoebe who was brushing the dust from her coat. "Dammit, I just bought this this!" she exclaimed as if she'd just spilled a soda on it.

"Hey, at least it was a pretty easy vanquish. We didn't even need the spell!" replied her sister, equally non-chalant. "Hey, where's Piper, anyway?"

I creased my brow in confusion. I had just witnessed the impossible and the horrific and they were acting like it was no more than another day at the office. "_What in the hell are you, Phoebe Halliwell?"_

The clatter of bootsteps answered before Phoebe could. The eldest Halliwell sister rushed round the corner, coming to a stop at the crate where the man-thing had disappeared into flames. She skid to a halt, eying the smoldering splinters. She put her hands on her hips. "I ran all the way here for nothing? I thought it was a Power of Three spell."

Phoebe shrugged. "He just went poof when the fireball hit him."

"His fireball?" Piper asked.

"Wait a minute, didn't that entry say that he feeds on fire? Hellfire, specifically?" said Paige, obviously realizing something.

I, meanwhile, was trying to figure out just what I was hearing. Had I just witnessed murder? But even pyromaniacs don't 'feed on fire'. Not literally, anyway. "_They way he looked, the way they're _

_talking about him-" makes him sound like some kind of-"_

"DEMON!" shouted Piper, the only sister facing in my direction. _"Demon?"_ I thought for a moment before realizing I must have been seen. _"Shit!" _thought, but before I could do or think another thing I felt something slam me to the ground by my head. I saw a blur of that same rust colored skin brush by my face and the smell of burnt flesh filled my nostril. I choked on it as the thick stench went down my throat, the taste assaulting my tongue. But it – a demon? It wasn't concerned with me.

I pulled myself around to follow where he had gone and I saw him once again facing the sisters. But this time, you'll call me crazy if you haven't already, his muscles had swollen and he had sprouted black talons. A low growling laugh rumbled from his throat as he seemed to survey his prey.

"Aw, great!" exclaimed Paige, again too nonchalantly for my taste. Was she batty or just stupid to not run?!

"Pheeeobee!" Piper almost whined in exasperation. "Now look what you did!"

"Hey, it's not my fault that you guys didn't catch me up on the research!" protested Phoebe.

I pulled myself to my knees. _"Am I the only one here who can see the monster staring you down!?"_ I wanted to cry out but something told me, by the way the sisters were bunching together deliberately, that perhaps this banter served some kind of purpose. Stalling, maybe?

The demon, as they had called it, now roared and a stream of fire shot from his mouth at the women. "Whoa!" exclaimed Piper, who flung her hands up at the being, whose firebreath now hung frozen in the air, as did he on the ground. Phoebe leapt up now, and I swear, it was almost as if she were hovering a moment before kicking him in the jaw, sending him flying in to another stack of shipping crates.

"Quick, quick, quick!" said Piper, motioning for her sisters to join her side. Paige pulled a slip of paper from her pant's pocket. They gathered around it and I was now supremely confused as they began to recite a poem.

_Child of fire,_

_Product of flame..._

A poem? They're reading a _poem?! _I glanced back at the demon. He had begun to pull himself to his feet, and didn't seem to fazed considering the fall he'd just taken.

_Take this pyre,_

_We make your feel pain..._

Seriously?! Now is not the time for a silly rhyme! I pulled myself to my feet, adrenaline preparing me for whatever I would have to do next. I hardly noticed that the demon now seemed rooted to the spot.

_Back to the mire,_

_Go back from whence you came!_

The roar was ear-splitting despite not being very loud. It was unearthly, and no description I give could truly describe it. I watched as the demon was split in half by violent flames, his energy seemed to be being sucked into a black void at his feet. And with a sizzle of light on the pavement he was gone. The silence rang in my ears.

"Now that's more like it!" Paige said with an approving nod.

Phoebe glanced at her watch. "Oh, crap! My lunch has been over for, like, two hours now! Argh, Elise is gonna kill me!" The mention of my name brought my attention back to the sisters.

"Since when do you have set work times?" asked Piper, rather sarcastically. I raised my eyebrows.

"Whatever," Pheobe replied, narrowing her eyes at her sister. "The point is that I try to keep regular hours as best I can. Just because they need me over there doesn't mean I take them for granted! I mysteriously disappear enough as it is." I felt my lips turn upward just a smidge. _'I never thought you were playing hooky Phoebe, but God knows, I didn't expect this!" _

"She's gonna get suspicious one of these days if I'm not careful. And I don't even want to think of what would happen with that kind of exposure! 'Read 'Ask Phoebe' or she'll turn you in to a toad!" Phoebe finished with a wiggle of her fingers. I realized, suddenly, that I'd best make a hasty retreat. Not because I was afraid of what she or her sisters would do to me, but because it was dawning on me that I shouldn't be here. As fascinating, and terrifying, as what I had just witnessed was, it was not a story that should be told.

I slowly turned myself around to try and exit my hding space. As I squeezed between two pallets my coat pocket caught itself on a corner and was tugged open. My camera fell to the ground with a clatter and I froze.

"What was that?" I heard Phoebe ask.

"_Crap! Crap! Crap!"_ I cursed myself inwardly. I quickly bent, scooped up the camera. As luck would have it, a bilge rat scurried past my feet at that moment and soon skittered into view of the sisters.

"Oh, it's just a rat," remarked Paige.

Piper didn't sound so sure. "I don't know..." I stuffed the camera back in my pocket, slipped off my shoes, and quickly padded my way across the short, grimy, distance to my car. I slipped into my car and quickly drove off as inconspicuously as possible.

As I drove back to the office I glanced at my phone's tracking again. The dot was back at the house. _"She must have transported... or whatever... back. Good. They didn't see me." _I rubbed the palm of my hand across my face and was surprised when it came back wet. I looked at my hand. Blood!

A look in the rear view mirror revealed three long scratches across my right cheek. I wondered absently if demons could transmit some kind of demonic form of cat scratch fever as images of the last half hour flashed in my head. _"I'll cross that bridge if and when it comes to it.." _I decided not to go back to work for the day. Not with freshly bleeding wounds on my face.

I called my asst. editor when I got home, and slid on to the couch as I flipped my phone shut. A moment later I flipped it open again and booted up the tracking program. Phoebe's dot glowed, hovering over the newspaper's building. _"How in the world can you go to work again after that?"_ I wondered. I flipped the phone shut again.

I sat on my couch, staring into space. _"What am I supposed to do with this information? Sharing... no, exposing is the better word for it. Exposing what the Halliwells are... it just doesn't seem right somehow. Hell, I'm still not even sure what they are. Witches maybe? They said something about a spell." M_y journalist instincts were of no use - confused. I was at a loss. _"Whatever they did, it didn't seem bad. Should I paint them as heroes?"_

My cat, Pulitzer, soon hopped on to the couch and began to nuzzle my hand before moving down to my leg, finally reaching the corner of the camera still in my hip pocket. I looked down at her, considering things. "You're right Pulli," I said as I took the camera out of my pocket.

An electronic beep greeted me as I booted up the device and waited for the album to appear. I scrolled through the photos and the day's events greeted me in their grim hi-def detail. I lingered on a shot of the... demon... I still couldn't get my mind around that. Even in a still shot you could see the hell emanating out of the beasts eyes. Then the shot of Phoebe rushing her body in to harm's way against this evil thing.

I stared at my camera. I'd never buried a story in all my career. I'd always thought that my profession held a noble purpose. One for the public good. We keep the public informed. _"But is telling this serving the public good?"_

I sighed. I knew what I had to do.

I looked through the photos once more to be certain. And then I hit 'erase'.

BEEP

They were gone. I shook my head. "You owe me Phoebe Halliwell," I said to no one with a smirk. It was an odd kind of relief. Sure, I had a secret to keep – no, protect – now, but it was easier than the burden of releasing that kind of secret upon the world. I knew whatever it was the Halliwell sisters were up to it was for a good cause. I scratched Pulli behind her left ear. "Doesn't she owe me? _Yes_, she does!"

I turned off the camera, leaned back in to the cushions of my couch, and contemplated where things would go from here.

* * *

I watched as Phoebe attempted to sneak past the window of my office door, obviously off on one of her previously mysterious escapades. In the months since I had seen the secret life of Phoebe Halliwell, I had decided to keep up my facade. I had continued to investigate, following the women on occasion, but mostly I read between the lines of what Phoebe and, occasionally, her sisters, said. The sisters let loose more information than they knew when one had an inkling of the subtext of what they said.

I knew the best thing I could do for their cause, and _especially _for them, was to never let on that I knew their secret. They didn't need that kind of worry, nor did I want to live the kind of life I'd seen them and their Detective friend live with. It was both for them, and myself, that I will never let on that I know their secret.

I swung open my office door. "Phoebe!" I exclaimed in what I hoped was a convincingly annoyed tone. "Where do you thing you're going?!"

Phoebe shot me an apologetic smile, her eyebrow scrunched in worry. "I, uh, have to go home... family issues...?" Even she didn't seem to believe it.

Had she been anyone else... had I not known where she was really going, I would have reamed her. But instead, I gave her the lee-way. I still put on the stern face, though. "Just make sure that column gets in by four this afternoon! Okay?"

Phoebe nodded and swiftly hurried through the office door. I closed my office door and sat back. I wouldn't truly come down on her if the column wasn't in on time. We could always run an older issue. But I would have to give a harsh tongue lashing.

I sighed.

I had to fend off the occasional newsie claiming Phoebe was getting preferential treatment, but thankfully her column continued to bring in the circulation, so I had an excuse to give her leeway that other employees didn't. But I still had to grill her and put on the show so neither her nor anyone else suspected that I knew something.

So that's part of my job description now. I'm an editor, an actor... a protector. I sure as hell don't know what's going on, but my news nose tells me to leave well enough alone. And so I do my job, which lets Phoebe do her job, which – I think – lets us all live our lives in relative peace.

Which is why I let her walk out the door.

* * *

**Next Time: The people around Paige.**


	3. Daryl

**Chapter 3: Darryl**

I don't know when it happened, or even when, really. Somewhere along the line they'd become like family. If someone had told me seven years ago that I would gladly risk my life for my partner's ex-girlfriend's sisters that continually showed up, tied into some of the most horrific cases of my young career, I'd have told them they were crazy. Hell, I thought Andy was crazy for putting his job in danger for what seemed like a crazy, if gorgeous, girl. Little did I know how soon I'd be doing the same, and without growing up with them, or even dating one of the sister. And if I'd been told a year ago that I'd be packing up and leaving the sisters out to dry, I'd say you'd better watch your mouth.

But here I am.

My family's first night in our new home in Annapolis, Virginia. It's hot and humid as hell, and I realize I'm going to need to purchase an air conditioner tomorrow. I'm laying here in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, the bedside clock taunts me with its faint red glow, reminding me that it's half past two, and I can't sleep. But it's not the heat that's keeping me awake.

I sigh – apparently a little too loudly, as I hear my wife turn on her side to face me. "What's done is done, Darryl," she says in a low voice, heavy with sleep. "If they wanted you to be involved, they would have contacted you."

I lick my lips, but don't break eye contact with the shadowy ceiling above. "Yeah… I'm not so sure about that. What if it's my fault?"

The blanket shifts as she flips back over and yawns. "It's not. And I'm sure they don't blame you either. Now go to sleep. You don't want to look like a zombie when you meet the chief tomorrow morning. I close my eyes, but I don't answer. The fact of the matter is that I never told Sheila about everything that had happened. She knew that, but also knew that when it came to the Halliwells, it was like being a mafia wife. The less you know, the safer you are. Staring at the back of your eyelids somehow had a way of bringing pictures to the mind's eye, and I found myself reflecting on the past seven years.

It's the number one truth among cops that your partner is your brother. Just like family, you don't choose your partner; fate does. And just like brothers, you have each other's backs when it came down to it, no matter what you thought of their decisions. That's why I'd trusted Andy, and didn't dig any deeper into what was going on with the Halliwells – Prue especially. And when Andy died, I thought that was over. But again, much like family, cutting the ties wasn't as easy as I'd thought it would be. Like when your brother leaves behind a widow, who is now your sister-in-law, you know he'd want you to make sure she was ok.

That you had her back as much as you'd had his.

At first that's why I'd helped when I could. And again, just like with the mob, I tried to keep my nose out of it. I knew it had gotten Andy killed, and I knew he'd died for a purpose. But, of course, the longer you hang around, the more you learn, like it or not. But somewhere along the line it had stopped being about carrying on for Andy, and I was there for the sisters out of choice – not obligation.

I think it became the case when Prue died. Here they were, dealing with a sister dying in the line of duty. A duty that unlike Andy and I, they hadn't chosen. Sure, they choose to keep going, but from what I've gathered, I'm not sure that the universe wouldn't force the fight right back into their lives one way or another – even now, with their magical witness protection plan in place. They say that some people are born great. Some achieve greatness. Some have greatness thrust upon them. I say, the sisters are all three of those things. But they don't get ticker tapes parades. They're not lauded as heroes.

And they don't get the funeral of a hero, like Andy did.

Prue deserved at least that much, but still, all her sisters really wanted was to mourn in peace. Not glory. And the fact that they picked right up to save a girl the same day as the funeral is the moment I realized that they were truly the best people I'd ever known. It was fitting that the girl they were rescuing turned out to be their sister.

I've seen things most folks would lock me into a loony bin for insisting were real. That's why it took me so long to tell Sheila about it. But the magic business tends to strike at the worst times, and I could only take off at odd hours so many times before she'd start to think I was having an affair. Luckily, the sisters trusted me, and by my wife, to reveal their magic to Sheila, and show her enough proof to prove I'm not crazy. Truth be told, I think they liked having a female friend that they could talk with, without having to leave a pretty big chunk of their lives out of the picture - Piper especially. Where other women were quick to call Leo a dirt bag for leaving her alone to raise a toddler while pregnant, Piper could commiserate about the hardship with Sheila. She could talk about pregnancy and parenting with someone else who had gone through it, and not have to leave out the fact that her babies could literally disappear into thin air.

"_What did you do when your boys were this age?" asked Piper. "I mean – how can he refuse to eat. He can't be sneaking something else. He's only a year old for God's sake!"_

_Sheila laughed. "Oh, you know, you shouldn't worry. I think it's just something some kids go through when you're weaning them. Darryl Jr. did the same thing. They've just figured out that they can refuse to do something and they start doing it with everything. They don't know what they want. Just wait 'til he hits the 'no' stage!"_

_Piper sighed, but gave Sheila a grateful smile nonetheless. "I don't know how my mom did it. Of course, she did have Grams too when we were that age." _

"_Well, what did your Grandmother after, you know..?" Sheila trailed off. She'd never been sure how to bring up the deceased family member stuff, especially since they weren't exactly "gone" all the time._

_Piper flashed her a reassuring smile, indicating that she didn't mind talking about it. "Oh, we didn't have powers then." She paused a moment. "Of course, that apparently didn't mean she didn't use magic anyway," Piper added with a roll of her eyes._

_Shiela laughed. "What? Did she turn you into toads or something?"_

"_You know, I'm not really sure? From what my Dad told me I know that she freeze us until we 'cooled down'," she added finger quotes for the last two words._

_Sheila cocked her head to one side, pretending to consider something, before she leaned in and said in a conspiratorial tone, "You might want to hold on to that spell for that 'no' stage I mentioned. Come to think of it – is there any way I can get that spell for the next time my boys are having a snit?"_

_She and Piper shared a chuckle. "I would if I could… unfortunately, I'm afraid you'd have to be a witch for it to work."_

"_How about an anti-sassing potion, then?" _

_The pair laughed again as Piper refreshed their coffee mugs. "Don't tempt me. There are rules about personal gain, you know!"_

_A thought seemed to come to Sheila as she took a sip of her drink. "I still don't know much about the whole witch thing, so stop me if this is crazy, but you haven't started having mysteriously missing food or anything, have you?"_

_Piper furrowed her brow. "Not that I…" She shook her head before her mouth broke into a half-smirk. "Now that you mention it, I keep finding empty bottles left in the fridge. And an empty apple carton of apple juice. Don't tell me your boys snuck juice when they were a year old!"_

_Sheila shook her head. "Not exactly. But they did make a grab for their share of me and Darryl's drinks when they managed to get into reach. So, Wyatt doesn't have to be able to actually physically reach anything…"_

"_Looks like I owe Paige an apology. Here I was blaming her for being too lazy to prep new bottles, and my little guy was helping himself!"_

_Sheila nodded her head. "I think your Grandma had the right idea with the spells after all!"_

_Piper groaned. "I just hope I have this figured out by the time they're old enough to be grounded…"_

And then the day that changed everything happened. Not that it felt like just a day to me.

I don't know how often they experience the kind of thing I did. I know they've all died at least once. And like I said, I don't blame them for trying to find a way out. But that's why I had to walk away as well.

Have you ever looked death in the face? I have, plenty of times, and that's just in the parts of my job that everyone knows about. Have you ever been seconds away from death for a crime you didn't commit, only to receive a last minute reprieve? I'll bet you haven't. There's only a handful of guys out there that have. And at least they can talk about it.

I spent one year on death row. One year, during which I was never granted a single appeal to my death sentence. One year where all the safeguards in place to prevent wrongful execution mysteriously didn't apply to me. Six months before I realized that whatever magic got me into this wasn't going to get me out. The six months after that to write as much as I could to my two little boys, trying to leave as much of myself behind as possible to be there as they grew up. A video message for each for every birthday I would miss until they turned 25. Still, I knew it wouldn't be enough, not really.

That horrifying moment as the needle gleamed, lowering to my arm, ready to put me down like a dog. Fighting frantically to somehow suck every last ounce of life left – and time left – out of those final moments…

Near death experiences are supposed to flash your life before your eyes. Not give you a year to think about what you're leaving behind.

The sisters offered me some kind of explanation after I called them to find out just what the hell happened to me. Something about magic being exposed, some demonic plot, and some group called the Cleaners. With all my worry about what would happen to the Halliwells if exposed, I never knew that there was a whole group of beings out there that could take my life, or the life of someone in my family, just to make sure the whole good and evil thing was never exposed. The sisters said the things that did that to me were "neutral", but by the way they said it I knew they'd had a run in with these guys before, and weren't happy with them.

That didn't make things better.

I don't know where all this fits into what I was taught at Sunday School, but it sure as hell doesn't convince me that everything happens is a part of God's plan. Not my vision of it, anyway.

I didn't know what to tell Sheila when I was suddenly back in my precinct's station. It was obvious I was the only one who remembered what had happened. Even the sisters didn't really know what I'd gone through. I couldn't tell Sheila. I just couldn't. I didn't need her asking questions. I just wanted to push the whole think out of my mind and forget it. I don't know why I was allowed to remember, but I think it was a warning; "mortals don't belong in this game".

I shrugged it off that night as best I could, and told Sheila that I wasn't feeling well. It was the truth, if not all the details. But she knew something was wrong. I started snapping at her whenever she'd ask about work and Sheridan. Soon it spilled over into other things – stupid things. And I started snapping at our boys. It wasn't long after that that she realized I wasn't helping the sisters like I used to. How was I supposed to explain why I wouldn't help Piper's son; the one who hadn't even been born was a guy who had travelled back in time to save his family, and the rest of the world along with it. But when it came down to it…

"_What's going on, Daryl?" Sheila crossed her arms and gave me the look I knew meant she wouldn't take 'nothing' for an answer again._

_I swallowed hard, and tried a slightly different tack. "I can't tell you."_

_She put her hands on her hips and frowned at me. "Just like how you can't help the sisters?"_

_I shook my head and set my jaw, trying to control my temper. "The less you know the better."_

"_Phoebe told me something happened. Something that scared you…" she said, concern creeping into voice. "What happened, Daryl? What happened to make the most honorable man I know turn his back on the closest thing he has to family outside this house?"_

"_I almost died," I answered softly. _

_Sheila tilted her head to one side and crossed her arms. "You take that risk every day. I don't like it, but I knew that when I married you."_

"_Not like this." I looked everywhere but into her eyes. "I was nearly executed. By the state of California."_

_I could hear the confusion in her voice, despite not having the will to look her in the face. "But that's not possible. I mean –"_

"_Magic, Sheila," I interjected quickly. "Magic sent me to death row. I've lived a whole year that never happened, Sheila."_

"_But the sisters saved you," she added. _

"_This time," I shot back. _

"_This time? If magic can take that whole year back, then they can always save you."_

_I shook my head. "Not always." Finally, I looked up and met her eyes again."If they couldn't save Prue or Andy, then I can't guarantee they'll always be able to save me. Or worse, what if you or the boys were put into danger? I can't risk that! I had a year to think about this. You don't know what it was like!" My voice was tight with the emotions I was trying to stamp back._

"_Okay…" she said softly, and I could tell something I'd said had given her pause enough to think on it. _

"_I don't like it any more than you do. I want to be there, fighting the fight that means a hell of a lot more than my job in the grand scheme of things!" I sighed. "You know how they call non-magical people 'innocents'? Even the bad ones?" She nodded and I put a hand on her shoulder. "I realized why that is because of what was done to me. It's not about moral innocence. It's about being innocent, like a kid, when it comes to magic. We're not supposed to know about it, and we're not supposed to get involved. It's not our world."_

_Sheila sighed. "But isn't that just trying to stuff the genie back into the bottle? We're already involved."_

"_Don't you ever say 'we'."_

"_I know what's going on and that's what makes me involved. The man I love doesn't turn his back when he knows someone needs help." She ran her fingers along my jawline, studying my face. _

It wasn't as simple as that of course. After Chris died, I didn't know what to do, and felt like somehow I'd contributed to the circumstances that got him killed. Valid guilt or now, I couldn't just blithely stand by and let Sheridan expose them. And I couldn't, or should I say wouldn't, bring myself down in the process of protecting them, either. But with Det. Sheridan riding my tail, I knew the best thing I could do was stay away from the Halliwells as much as possible, and certainly don't get caught helping then on any criminal cases.

And that worked for a while, especially after Brody had shown up. I knew they had someone on their side who could provide the kind of legal cover they needed even better than myself. Until he died too. Still, it was just before that that I knew what had to happen. I realized the strain that this had begun to have on my marriage. And that what Sheridan had said about the string of law enforcement officers who had died because of their involvement with the Halliwells struck a nerve. Whatever Sheridan had said to Sheila must have struck a nerve with her too, because it wasn't long before she finally gave me the permission to do what I wasn't even sure I could bring myself to do.

"_It's our family or theirs. This isn't your fight. It's theirs."_

Everything was coming to a head, I could sense it, and I knew then that I needed to get myself and my family out of the avalanche's path before it killed us all. So I put in for my transfer. However things worked out, I realized that having me around was as much a danger to them as involving myself with them was dangerous to me. Law enforcement is my job; protecting innocents is theirs, and when those worlds overlap too much, neither side has any concern for the safety of the interloper.

Still… I can't help feeling some sort of survivor's guilt. I see it in Sheila's eyes too, however fleeting, whenever something reminds us of them. I'm glad I stayed long enough to see what happened, and I mean what _actually_ happened, the day Sheridan died. She was just a woman doing her job, but just like anyone who gets too close to where they don't belong, she paid for that mistake with her life.

I really do think the only reason I'm still alive is because I never crossed the 'need to know' line when it came to my involvement.

But I still can't help feeling like if I'd been there… if I'd somehow managed to keep Sheridan away a little longer; if I'd gone into the manor instead of her… maybe she'd still be alive, and the sisters would never have had to fake their own deaths.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

I can't stand all the maybes in my life, but what can I do about them? Life is all about the what-if's sometimes, but damn it all, I'm still not even sure if any of this was the right decision. There's no closure to be had.

That's when I realized what I needed to do. The I left things… it would never sit right for me until I did it. Opened my laptop's browser and looked up P3's website. Finding the email address, I began to compose something of a 'Dear John' letter between friends.

_To whom it may concern,_

_I know what happened. I hope you're well. I can't say I blame you for doing what you have to during this tough time. It's got to be a pretty weird transition to make, right? Anyway, I'm sorry that Sheila and I couldn't make it to the funeral, but I'm sure that being so much like them, you understood. We all needed a clean break. It has to be this way, and being as close to them as you were, you know why. I wish there was something I could have done, more than you'll ever know. _

_I just want you to know that if you need anything for your transition to this new "situation", like paperwork or anything like that, you can always come to me. I'll always help the Halliwell family any way I can. But knowing the kind of talents you have, I'm guessing you're already set. _

_Best of luck and love from myself and Shiela,_

_Daryl Morris_

It was vague and coded language enough that I was certain that if what I witnessed wasn't the sisters in disguise, anyone else who read it wouldn't get the message. But they would. If they really did fake their deaths, as I'm almost 100 percent sure is the case, I don't think they'll need my sort of help again. Yet I had to make sure they knew. Despite everything that had happened, I know I'd never be able to live with myself if I completely turned my back on them. And as long as I was in San Francisco, that would always leave my family in danger. My boys in danger of losing a father; Sheila, a husband. Or worse yet, my losing them at the hands of some evil monster trying to get to the sisters through me.

And that's why I didn't stay.


End file.
